


White Christmas

by Cawaiiey



Series: Cade's McHanzo Week Works!! [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Come Eating, Facials, M/M, McHanzo Week, McHanzo Week 2016, Misuse of Mistletoe, Throat Bulge, face fucking, jesse is cheezy af and hanzo loves him, this is for day 7 holiday season!!, this is probably the last one i will do for mchanzo week, u cant tell me that jesse mccree would not put mistletoe on his belt buckle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 08:09:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9114421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cawaiiey/pseuds/Cawaiiey
Summary: Jesse McCree's not a fan of Christmas, but he's been unusually cheery this December. Hanzo finds out he's been dreaming of a 'white Christmas' when he finds himself caught under the mistletoe with his cheesy boyfriend.





	

**Author's Note:**

> he..y... how .. d o you guys feel about... face fuckin.... i got... some face fuckin here for u 
> 
> okay this got out of hand ENJOY

McCree, for all his griping about the holidays, is peculiarly happy during this holiday season.

Hanzo finds it odd. He’s not used to McCree being anything but grumpy about the holidays, particularly Christmas. Some of the older folks had taken to calling him “McScrooge”, much to the cowboy’s chagrin. To be fair, he usually was complaining about how Christmas was ‘nothin’ but a waste of time’, which was why he was being called “Scrooge” in the first place. It seems as though this Christmas is shaping up to be different. 

Hanzo figures it could have something to do with this Christmas being the first where he and McCree are, for lack of a better term, boyfriends.

Well, that sounds entirely too young for them, close to forty as they are. He’d rather call them lovers, or partners, the latter of which he tends to use more often than not. McCree, however, has no qualms gushing about his ‘boyfriend’. Hanzo finds it to be equal parts embarrassing as it is endearing. And Jesse McCree is both of those things, at all times, save for during the month of December.

Hanzo noticed a suspicious lack of groaning over the holidays at the end of November, after a very large Thanksgiving celebration they held on base. Usually, that would be when McCree started griping over the fast approaching holidays. But he seemed unusually cheery this time around. Hanzo was left to ponder over his boyfriend’s odd behavior for a few weeks, watching him practically skip around base with a smile on his face. Even the older members were confused; some, even suspicious. 

When it was time to decorate, Hanzo went on a search for Jesse to find his lover wasn’t around. Not in his room, not in Hanzo’s room, not in the shooting range, the mess hall, the rec room; not  _ anywhere _ . Now, this behavior was more like Jesse’s norm during the holiday season. Hanzo just wrote it off as something peculiar and went back to join the others with decorating the halls and common rooms. 

They used decorations from all sorts of nationalities and holidays, from the mainstream of Hanukkah and Christmas, to the more obscure holidays, some of which Hanzo wasn’t even familiar with. There were a plethora of holidays and cultures to celebrate during the winter season, and the halls of Watchpoint: Gibraltar reflected them all. Hanzo found he was having more fun than he expected learning about all of the different cultures while they hung up wreaths and trimmed the tree. McCree didn’t make himself known the entire time that the rest of the team was decorating. 

With the halls and common rooms thoroughly decked in festive cheer, Hanzo made his way back to his own room, expecting McCree to come find him if he wanted to sleep in the same bed tonight. He was surprised to find his boyfriend was standing in the entryway of his room when the door slid open. 

“Jesse, there you are,” Hanzo said, arching one brow as he moved to step over the threshold, “where ha-”

“Oh sugar, it looks like we’re caught under the mistletoe.” Jesse interrupts, pointing his metal index finger skyward and waggling his brows. Hanzo snorts, tilting his head to catch sight of the bough of holly hung from the doorway. So  _ that _ was what he’d been up to the whole day. Angela had mentioned that there was a lack of mistletoe in their decorations box when they’d fished it out of storage. His boyfriend must have snatched them up and, by the looks of things, hung them up in various spots where he’d run into Hanzo.

How cute. 

“It seems we are,” Hanzo muses, taking a step forward and grabbing the collar of his boyfriend’s shirt. He doesn’t let McCree make the first move, as he yanks him down into a searing kiss. It lasts far too long for a simple smooch under the mistletoe, especially since Hanzo makes sure to slip a little tongue in there, but McCree looks thoroughly smitten when they finally part. There are practically hearts in his amber eyes.

“There. It is only customary.” 

McCree nods, grinning wide as they step into the room and the door slides shut behind them. “Sure is, Han. And I happen to have some more mistletoe right here,” his voice steadily gets quieter and deeper, husky, with promise underlying his tone. He shifts back, hiking his belt up a bit and tapping his metal finger against the garish buckle he wears. Only, the buckle isn’t his usual one. This one, just as large and irritatingly shiny, is engraved with a picture of mistletoe. Hanzo raises both brows at the sight, mouth falling open a bit at his lover’s blatant behavior. Not that it doesn’t start a fire in his veins at the thought of sinking to his knees and giving McCree exactly what he wants. Only… that wouldn’t be fun. 

Hanzo hums, reaching a hand forward and pressing his palm against the thick bulge in his lover’s pants. McCree sucks in a breath, canting his hips forward into the fleeting pressure before Hanzo is pulling his hand back, much to the cowboy’s chagrin. His pout is certainly not becoming of his face, making him look like a guilty dog and not a grown man. Hanzo prides himself on being able to wrap his lover around his finger like so. 

“How uncouth, Jesse,” Hanzo purrs, stepping around him and heading towards the en-suite restroom. He hears his lover trip over his own feet in an attempt to turn around and chase after him, but Hanzo is already closing the door to the bathroom on his boyfriend’s face. He snorts at the pitiful whine McCree lets out, audible even through the thick walls that separate the bathroom and the main room.

Hanzo makes quick work of his clothes, eager to step underneath the hot spray of their shower and wipe away the sweat and grime of the day. Hanging up decorations was rather hard work, now that he felt the pleasant ache of a day full of activity weighing down on his bones. He lingers under the showerhead, soaking up the heat and scrubbing himself down using a bar of McCree’s soap that he may or may not have pilfered from his room (He likes the smell of Jesse’s soap, and he likes when it lingers on his skin, something he is sure his bear of a boyfriend is aware of). It’s only when he feels the heat of the shower start to wind down does he turn off the spray. He steps out of the stall, hair pushed back, and turns to see his lover standing with his back to the bathroom door, shirtless and looking sheepish.

“Hello, Jesse,” Hanzo says, wringing his hair out and shooting his boyfriend a smile. McCree shifts restlessly, hands stuffed into his pockets and peering guiltily at Hanzo. He cocks a brow in question. Hanzo grabs at the fluffy towel that he kept hanging on the shower rod and wraps it around himself, stepping closer to his lover and furrowing his brows at the way he ducks his head down a bit. “What can I do for you?” He can’t keep the confusion out of his tone. 

“Jus’, y’know,” McCree mumbles, kicking the tile with his socked feet, “wanted to make sure I hadn’t stepped over the line or anything with my lil’ joke earlier.” He looks thoroughly dogged, head down and a pout on his features. Hanzo has to choke back a laugh. After months of being intimate with each other, he thought that  _ this _ was going to upset him? He’s absurd, overthinking this like he is. Hanzo figures he should assuage his boyfriend’s worries. 

“Oh? You were joking? Such a shame,” Hanzo lets his towel fall to the floor, his eyes sliding down his lover’s form to rest on the mistletoe engraved belt buckle still keeping his pants up. Horrendously cheesy. But who would he be if he wasn’t hopelessly in love with his boyfriend’s awful cheesy antics? 

“And here I was hoping that I could be caught under the mistletoe once more,” Hanzo purrs, already moving closer to his lover. He catches the flash of heady desire in Jesse’s eyes just as those big hands settle on his waist as soon as he’s within touching distance. Hanzo delights in the fire in them, pressing himself against Jesse in one long, hard line, much like the clothed thickness that’s pressing against his bare lower abdomen. He reaches up and winds his arms around his lover’s shoulders, smirk widening when he catches McCree’s eyes on his mouth, unbidden desire darkening his irises and blowing his pupils.

“Y’mean it, sugar? Y’wanna give me a big ol’ kiss down there?” 

“Think of it as an early Christmas present,” Hanzo breathes out, dipping his head to press a soft kiss against his lover’s clavicle before he sinks to the floor. He kisses along the expanse of his chest, trying not to laugh at the way the wiry hair teases his face on his descent. He supposes there’s some benefit to having prosthetics that start at his knees, as they hit the tile, because he plans to be down here for a while. McCree’s hands immediately find their place on the back of his head, carding through the damp, inky strands with reverence. Hanzo almost moans aloud at the feel of his blunt nails scratching his scalp.  _ Delightful _ . As it is, he only makes a soft sound of encouragement, his hands coming up to rest on his lover’s thick, muscled thighs through the fabric of his slacks.

He silently wonders where his boyfriend could have possibly gotten such a garish, horrendous belt buckle, but figures it doesn’t really make a difference, not when there are more pressing matters to attend to. Like what was pressing against the front of his lover’s pants. Hanzo leans in, leaving a hot, open-mouthed kiss against the front of his trousers, right where McCree’s cock is straining the fabric. He pulls back enough to reach up and undo his belt buckle and slide the leather out of the first two loops before he’s diving back in. With one hand popping open the button of his trousers and the other gripping his lover’s thigh like a vice, he tilts his head up to make sure McCree is watching him. 

And, oh, is he watching him. 

Those amber eyes are like coals, smoldering down at him, searing into him. Hanzo can’t stop the shiver that rolls up his spine, especially when McCree takes the moment to gently tug on his hair.  _ Fuck _ , that’s it, he lets out the moan he’d been holding back ever since his lover’s hands had found their spot in his hair. Jesse looks a bit surprised at his reaction, which Hanzo takes as his chance. He leans in, eyes still locked with his boyfriend’s, and takes the zipper between his teeth. Slowly, carefully, he tugs it down. McCree’s sharp inhale of breath is music to his ears. 

With the zipper tugged down, it’s only a matter of peeling his jeans down a bit so his cock wouldn’t brush against the teeth of the zipper, and Hanzo’s got his prize. He pulls his lover’s trousers down a bit, just enough to expose the strained front of his boxers, and leans in. With only the cloth separating them, he mouths against Jesse’s thickness. It twitches under his lips, throbs when he presses his tongue against the clothed hardness. He mostly tastes cloth but, just under that, is the promise of heat and salt that Hanzo salivates at the thought of. McCree’s hands have tightened their grip on his hair.

“Fuck, sugar, please,” he hears Jesse beg, tugging a bit on his hair. Hanzo likes the soreness of his scalp when his lover pulls his hair, pleasure and pain skittering underneath his skin in a heady mix. He pulls away from his lover’s straining erection for just a moment to yank the waistband of his boxers down. Hanzo licks his lips at the sight of Jesse’s cock springing out of its prison, bobbing in the open air. The tip is leaking just a bit, a stray drop of pre-come peeking out of his slit. Hanzo reaches up, tracing a vein on the underside with his finger, over the piercings his lover has on the shaft and down to the base. Jesse’s cock is  _ huge _ , like usual, and Hanzo would be a liar if he said its daunting size didn’t turn him on. It’s a challenge that Hanzo  _ loves _ to take on. One that he wants to swallow down and feel throbbing and twitching on his tongue, in his  _ throat _ .  _ Fuck _ . Just the thought has his cock thickening from where it sits half-hard between his legs. Hanzo reaches down and wraps a hand around himself, just to give him something to fuck into, while his other hand presses against his lover’s pubic bone, thumb and forefinger framing the base of his thick cock. 

Hanzo feels McCree tug at his hair, sees him cant his hips forward just a bit, and decides to take pity on himself and his lover. The desire to swallow down his lover’s cock was getting practically insatiable anyways. Hanzo leans in, tongue tracing the vein that his finger had, up from the base to the glans. The piercings are cold in the open air, against his tongue, but he doesn’t mind them. He presses the flat of his tongue against the glans, peeking up at Jesse to make sure he’s watching. It doesn’t seem like his boyfriend’s eyes have been anywhere else, because they’re still burning into him. Hanzo’s cock twitches in his hands. 

He pulls away only to press forward immediately, opening up and accepting the leaking head into his mouth. It’s a bit salty, a bit heady, and Hanzo greedily swirls his tongue around the head to spur on more pre-come. McCree’s choked groan serves as motivation for him to push his head down just a bit more, past the head, accepting a few more inches into his mouth. Jesse’s hands tighten their grip on his hair in answer, and Hanzo catches his lover’s head being thrown back. He can’t help but smirk around the cock in his mouth. His lover was so exaggerated in his reactions. Though, if he had his cock deep in McCree’s mouth, he’d likely be reacting the same way. While McCree’s prick is rather deep, it could be  _ deeper _ . Hanzo wants it to be deeper. He wants to take Jesse all the way to the hilt. 

He wants Jesse to force him down to the very base of his cock. 

“Jesse,” he breathes out against the slick skin of his cock as he pulls off of it, “fuck me.” 

His boyfriend looks a bit confused, though accepting, as his hands move to leave their spot on the back of his head, “oh, uh, alright sugar, let’s jus’ go on over to our bed then an-”

Hanzo reaches up and grabs his hands before they can stray too far, putting them back on either side of his head. He locks eyes with a confused McCree, languidly licking his lips, and grins up at him wickedly. Jesse’s eyes widen. 

“No, Jesse. Fuck my throat.” 

McCree chokes on his words, even as Hanzo opens his mouth as wide as it can go, preparing himself to take his cowboy’s absurdly huge cock into his mouth. He can tell that his lover wants this too, if the way his fingers tightened their hold on his hair was any indication. Though, it seems he must have some reservations, as he’s not plunging into Hanzo’s waiting mouth like he wants him to. 

“H-Han, that’s, uh. Fuck, I don’t want to  _ hurt you _ or nothin’,” McCree says, though Hanzo catches the way that his cock twitches in front of his face. 

“You cannot hurt me, Jesse,” Hanzo says, annoyed that it’s taking so long for his lover to go through with what he asked him to do, “and, besides,” he smirks wickedly up at McCree, “I want to feel you fuck my face until you come down my throat.” 

Hanzo delights in the sputtering noise his lover lets out at  _ that _ particular comment. 

He opens his mouth again, leveling Jesse with a pointed look, and waits for him to take the initiative. It’s a few more moments of McCree looking nervous before the man finally decides to mentally say ‘fuck it’, and pulls Hanzo down onto his cock. 

It’s thick and hot and heady, the tip slick with pre-come, and Hanzo moans against his length as the flavor starts to pervade his senses. Jesse groans low in his throat, pushing Hanzo down his cock as his hips move forward. Hanzo pinches his thumb in his fist, sucking in a deep breath as the head of his lover’s cock starts to go deeper than air allows. The frenum piercings that decorate the underside of his shaft roll against Hanzo’s tongue. He makes sure to tease them, flexing his tongue and pressing the tip against the ones closer to the entrance of his mouth. McCree’s answering grunt has Hanzo’s cock twitching. 

Jesse keeps pushing, pulling, until Hanzo’s airways are blocked by his thick cock, and he’s nosing the wiry hairs that decorate his lover’s pubic bone. His cowboy is sucking in deep breaths, throbbing against his tongue, twitching in his throat. Hanzo loves every moment of it. He reaches up with one hand, the other settling back on his aching cock, and drags his fingers along his throat.  _ Fuck _ . He can  _ feel _ his lover in his throat, distending the skin, and if that isn’t the hottest thing that Hanzo has felt then he doesn’t know what is. 

Jesse starts to slide out of his mouth, inch by inch, enough for Hanzo to suck in a deep breath, before he’s pushing forward again. He’s tugging on the inky strands of Hanzo’s hair, cock twitching and steadily leaking pre-come, all while he slowly fucks his face. With every pull backwards, Hanzo can feel saliva leak out of his mouth, making his beard a mess of spit and pre-come. McCree’s barely restrained groans are the loudest thing in the restroom, Hanzo’s hand moving on his cock coming in at second. He can’t help but fuck into his fist when his lover is throbbing in his mouth, causing his throat to bulge every time he sinks in to the hilt. Hanzo moans around Jesse’s length, wrenching a deep groan from his lover’s throat. 

McCree starts to speed up, barely giving Hanzo a moment to breathe between thrusts. He continuously plunges into his throat, the tight, wet heat of his mouth accepting his lover’s cock greedily. Pre-come flows freely from his slit, tinging Hanzo’s tastebuds with the slightly bitter salty tang that is McCree’s distinct flavor. He tugs on his hair, sending electricity down Hanzo’s spine, steadily tightening the coil of arousal in the pit of his stomach. McCree is using him so much, fucking his throat, leaving him feeling raw and oversensitive. It’s  _ so good _ . Hanzo can’t help but make the most pleased noises at his lover’s vigorous movements, at the way he’s using him. 

“God… God damn, Hanzo, fuck,” McCree grunts out when he swallows around his cock, throat undulating with the movement, “yer sucking me in like it’s yer fuckin’  _ job _ .” He pauses for a moment to pull back until just the tip is left in Hanzo’s mouth. He greedily laps at the steady stream of pre-come that’s leaking from his slit, eyes fluttering at the heady taste that pervades his senses. McCree’s grin is positively  _ predatory _ , as he suddenly thrusts forward, burying himself to the hilt once more. 

“Merry-” 

Hanzo feels him twitch and throb on his tongue, in his throat. His throat feels fucked  _ raw _ , and McCree’s hips are snapping backwards once more. Hanzo sucks in a deep breath as his boyfriend surges forward again. 

“-Christmas-”

McCree’s voice is getting tight, huskier, deeper. Hanzo knows he’s close, he can taste it on his tongue with every plunge forward. Jesse’s hips snap backwards once more, though with a little more force than necessary. He almost slips out of Hanzo’s mouth, but manages to stay inside, fucking into his throat yet another time. 

“-to me!”

Hanzo swallows around his lover’s cock, eyes fluttering shut when McCree starts to twitch with his release. He wants to feel him come down his throat, to feel the slick slide of every drop and swallow it all down.

He doesn’t expect McCree to yank his head up and off his cock. 

Hanzo doesn’t have a moment to react to the sudden lack of Jesse’s cock in his throat, as he hears McCree moan his name loudly and the first rope of come hits his face. He keeps his eyes closed, brows furrowed, letting his lover paint his face with his come. Each rope is hot and wet, decorating the regal slope of his nose, the curve of his cheekbones, his eyelashes, mingling with the pre-come and spit that soaks his beard. Thankfully, a few drops make it into his mouth, and the salty tang of his come is like ambrosia on Hanzo’s tongue. He can hear Jesse using his flesh hand to jerk himself through his orgasm, milking himself for every drop. The come on his face is steadily cooling with every passing second, but he can’t find it in himself to care. 

“Fuck, y’look so good Hanzo,” McCree purrs out, the sound of his hand moving on his own cock ceasing. Hanzo’s brows furrow a bit more, wondering what his boyfriend was doing. He feels the slick head of Jesse’s cock press against his mouth, smearing the leftover come that was leaking out of his slit along his lips. Hanzo’s tongue darts out to lap at his cock, eager to taste him. “Yeah, that’s right baby, clean it all up,” Jesse chuckles, pushing the softening head of his cock into Hanzo’s mouth and letting him lick up the mess. 

When McCree finally stops abusing his mouth, Hanzo, with eyes still closed, reaches down to grab his cock. He doesn’t pay any mind to the cooling come decorating his face, nor the sound of his lover’s jeans rustling, as he jerks himself to completion. It only takes a few shaky strokes, the feeling of Jesse in his throat and the filthy, sinful words he was saying doing their part in winding him up, before he’s coming. He whispers his lover’s name as the coil finally snaps and he paints the tiled floor with his release. 

The euphoria leaves him after a few moments, bleeding out of his system, and that’s when he realizes he’s hearing the sound of a phone’s camera shutter going off. Hanzo would roll his eyes, if they were open, but he doesn’t want to risk getting come in them if he decides to open them. Instead, he blindly reaches forward and braces his hands against Jesse’s thighs, pouting up at his boyfriend. 

“Really, Jesse? Photos?” 

McCree chuckles guiltily, his flesh hand suddenly touching the side of Hanzo’s face. He leans into his roughened palm, sighing happily, even as the camera shutter continues to go off. “Sorry darlin’, can’t help myself. Y’just look so damn good. Want the way you look right now saved forever,” he uses his thumb to swipe up a stray glob of come on Hanzo’s cheekbone before he grips his chin and sinks the digit into his lover’s waiting mouth, “that mistletoe surely gave me the ‘white Christmas’ that I was hopin’ for.” 

Hanzo snorts at that, laving his tongue around his lover’s thumb and swallowing down the traces of come that linger in his mouth. He pops off of Jesse’s digit for just a moment, pulling away and smirking up at his lover in, what he hopes, is a flirtatious way. 

“Would you like me to show you where I’d like my ‘white Christmas’ to be?” 

McCree sucks in a breath, and he can imagine that his eyebrows are raising towards his hairline. Hanzo raises one of his hands and sweeps two fingers through the mess of come on his face, making sure his lover is watching, and slides the digits into his mouth, sucking off the cool spend. McCree’s whine is delectable to hear.

“Shoot, honey, let’s get you cleaned up and we’ll talk about me givin’ you an early Christmas present.”

**Author's Note:**

> iiii've been dreaming of a whiiiite christmas,,, 
> 
> tell me what you thiiiink
> 
> come pester me on tumblr at cawaiiey or twitter @cawaiiey_ !


End file.
